Fraser left us while we were still in Trizonia, where we spent several very happy days. We had one night of heavy rain while we were there, and part of the next day, during which I sat below and wrote part of a novel, and Fraser took himself off on a tortoise hunt.
He returned wet, muddy, but very happy. The soil of Trizonia is red clay, and there was ample evidence of this on the trainers he had to leave in the cockpit for the rain to wash clean. It’s an incredible island, with only a handful restaurants and a couple of hotels. The main sources of income are fishing and tourism, not necessarily in that order. This year, there was a new restaurant for us to try, and even a tiny shop that stocked tourist stuff like t-shirts and fridge magnets, but also some food and toiletries.
Rainy days are definitely in the minority in Greece, even in October. We had plenty of fine days to walk around the island, and my arthritic joints stopped complaining as the heat gradually soothed the pain.
We decided, having eaten in all of the restaurants, that it was maybe time to move on. Mesolonghi was our next stop, which meant a 7 to 8-hour sail along the Gulf of Corinth into the Gulf of Patras, separated by the Rio-Antirio Bridge. Fraser may have mentioned this last time.
The wind tends to funnel along the gulfs of Corinth and Patras east-west or west-east. Usually it’s from wherever we’re heading, as is the current, but this time we had perfect weather, with a following wind and current, so we had the sails up and flew along at a spanking pace of up to 7 knots (really fast for Barberry).
Since the weather was so settled, we decided to poke our noses into the fortified town of Nafpaktos, a tiny circular harbour surrounded by walls. It’s quite shallow inside, with little room for manoeuvre, but Barberry has such low draught that we reckoned we were okay. Fraser broke out his good camera, and took some great photos, but unfortunately the clouds formed as we entered, so everything was a bit dark.
The entrance is quite narrow, with shallows on one side, but the harbour is beautiful and well worth a visit if you’re ever in the area, either by land or sea. Most sailors anchor outside the harbour rather than go inside, but there’s not a lot of protection out there, so it should only be attempted in settled weather. Jonathan and Sheenagh from the Sailing Options YouTube channel were heading to do just that. We heard them on the radio as they passed beneath the bridge in the opposite direction to us.
Good sailing days are rare in Greece: there’s usually no wind at all or far too much wind, and mostly from the wrong direction, but this makes it even more enjoyable when the weather gods decide to smile on us.
We made excellent time to Mesolonghi, and had no trouble contacting the Marinero (marina staff member who tells you where he wants you to berth, and helps you do so). We’d been warned that the marina was going to be very full, and that we were lucky to have booked a space, but when we arrived, the place seemed half-empty. This soon changed, and yesterday 35 boats came in , all in a single day. We were glad we’d come a day or two earlier! The poor marinero was run off his feet.
The marina has been expanding, extending the old jetties to double their original length. We were on a “new” bit, which had clearly been thrown out by a posher marina when it refurbished its pontoons. The concrete is uneven, with sections where the surface is lethal, all humps and dips and the nearest electric plug in was 40 metres from us. It took two cables joined together to stretch the gap. Not that we cared: there were storms forecast, so we were just glad to be in somewhere safe. This was our first opportunity to test the new boarding plank we’d bought several weeks ago in Preveza, and it felt far safer than the old one, which was so warped that it wobbled scarily!
The next day we broke out the bikes, and I could finally find out whether all the hard work that Eamonn from McConvey Cycles, and from the two of us, smuggling lithium batteries to and fro, had paid off. The first time I fitted the battery, nothing happened. We both shrugged, a bit depressed but not overly surprised. Then Fraser took it off and fitted it again. All the lights came on! It has been tested extensively with long cycles over very rough surfaces over the last few days, and has performed faultlessly. Thank you, Eamonn!
The bikes are a lifeline for us, especially for me. Without my electric Brompton, I would never have experienced all the wonderful museums, churches, swimming beaches, old fortresses and of course supermarkets that we’ve visited since leaving home in 2023. With front carriers on them, we can load up a surprising quantity of shopping and bring it home in one piece.
Rant alert:
I should mention that while we were docking here in Mesolonghi, our new boat neighbour stood watching with his hands on hips and a critical frown on his face. I reversed Barberry in as I always do, with zero use of the rudder and many light touches of the bow thruster to turn her. This technique has been developed over several years and 3,000+ nautical miles of sailing, and is the only reliable way to reverse her without lots of forwards and backwards, constantly correcting. In reverse, with her full length keel and tilted rudder, she doesn’t respond at all to the helm, at least not in a predictable manner, so this is the system that works. The new neighbour was generous with his advice about how he would have done it (with no need to use the bow thruster!), even though he’s never tried reversing Barberry. This happens a lot, and it’s usually men with meek wives who seem to be offended by the sight of a woman at the helm. The fact that I brought the boat in with one smooth manoeuvre, into a snug space, without even touching fenders with either neighbouring boat was irrelevant. I’d broken a cardinal rule and used all the tools available to dock safely instead of relying on the macho approach — which would probably have resulted in Barberry bouncing off half the boats in the marina before wriggling into her space.
Rant over.
In general, the sailing community here in Mesolonghi seem very friendly and sociable. Tomorrow evening, we’re planning to join many of them for an evening communal meal in the marina restaurant, preceded by a Happy Hour (not so sure about that last part, mind). We’ve met some really lovely people here, including a couple from an Irish boat called Electra, Rob and Mairead and an Austrian couple we shared last night’s meal with, Uta and Roland. It’s great to trade experiences with other sailors, and the vast majority are positive and encouraging, happy to admit to gaffes they’ve made themselves instead of picking apart your seamanship.
We’re booked to stay here in Mesolonghi for just over a week, long enough to ride out the forecast storms in safety, we hope. There’s plenty to do here, with museums, art galleries, excellent shops and restaurants, and of course the inevitable boat jobs. Fraser is currently enjoying his favourite form of contact sport: Boat Yoga.
Last night we had thunder, lightning, high winds and torrential rain which continues on and off through to the weekend. It’s a time to batten down the hatches and lie low, writing blogs and making minor repairs to the boat. This is all a part of the cruising life, and sometimes it’s a good idea to rest and take stock, planning the next adventure and discovering new anchorages.
